


one of these nights

by last



Category: BTOB
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-02
Updated: 2016-04-02
Packaged: 2018-05-30 15:31:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6430168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/last/pseuds/last
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>ilhoon’s a struggling student by day, ilsoon caters to lonely men by night, and hyunsik likes both of them despite everything in between.</p>
            </blockquote>





	one of these nights

**Author's Note:**

> (a.k.a. hostess club au)
> 
> it’s another long one (which shouldn’t be a surprise because it’s me). i’ve finally, finally, finally written ilsoon, and i honestly kind of love this? the title is, of course, taken from the red velvet song of the same name which i also love. and about the story itself, think ilhoon falling in love but convincing himself that they’re star-crossed. that’s the gist of it and, once again, a happy ending is still promised. enjoy?
> 
> p.s. there’s a short explicit scene towards the end, but it’s purely an optional one for anybody who wants it. it’s marked by parentheses and, you know, certain kinds of words.
> 
> **warning: mentions of sexual harassment.**

The club is only ever busy at the weekend, but money is money whether it’s high or low. (And Ilhoon needs it, no matter the amount.) He curls his false eyelashes with his real ones, straightens the bobbed wig on his head and dabs on some lip gloss as a finishing touch before getting started.

He shares a civil conversation about the weather over drinks with a regular tonight – a door-to-door salesman, from what Ilhoon has gathered over the months – and he’s always polite enough. He tips as generously as he can for somebody who mentions how much of a rut he’s in each time he visits, and he tries to make it clear that Ilhoon— _Ilsoon_ —is his favourite.

Not that Ilhoon particularly cares. Not about him, or any customer, in fact. It’s all business at the end of the day and none of these men will ever live up to his admittedly high expectations. (Not that he believes that he has the right to have them either.) They tend to be the lowest on the food chain of society, sometimes the dirtbags that fantasise about leaving their wives but come here instead. On the odd occasion, a truly wealthy guy like a lawyer or maybe a doctor will spend some time at the club, but most never return at the risk of being caught. (They’re the best kind though.)

It goes without saying that working in a seedy part of the city goes hand-in-hand with encountering mostly seedy people, and Ilhoon’s found that to be rather true. Work is like a test to find out if he’s got the endurance to go on – if he can put up with lewd comments from the occasional pervert that has few boundaries, not grimace at wandering hands attempting to travel to places where they don’t belong. He’s had men flat-out tell him that he wouldn’t be able to walk for weeks if they had their way with him, and he’s had to take it all like he doesn’t feel the tiniest tinge of disgust on the inside.

Each night is a new challenge with similar goals.

Ilhoon moves on from his usual customer once he’s gone. A group has just arrived and groups mean good money, whatever he has to put up with. He takes himself to their table before anybody else can beat him to it, gives them his little wave and coy smile to greet them, and sits himself down next to, at a glance, the best-looking of the bunch.

Around here, ‘best-looking’ generally refers to anybody who doesn’t appear a total mess, but with a closer look it seems that he’s actually better than most guys Ilhoon’s ever seen in person. He’s got a clean shirt on – that’s an accomplishment at times – and his hair has had some effort put into it. Realistically, there’s no reason for him to be in a place like this. (As for his companions, the same can’t quite be said.)

“I’m Ilsoon,” Ilhoon introduces himself with the sweet, higher-pitched voice he always uses. “What brings all of you here tonight?”

As it turns out, this is their idea of a birthday outing (and Ilhoon tries not to knock niche tastes, but this place isn’t exactly what comes to mind when he thinks about celebration). Frankly, he’s already forgotten most of their names, but Sungjae— _Sungsook_ —has joined in to take some of the attention away. They’re focused on him now, thank God because they’re also obnoxious and Ilhoon wouldn’t be able to stand them on his own, but his next door neighbour has only had eyes for him since he first sat with them.

“Hyunsik, was it?” Ilhoon asks after setting down his glass. This guy’s nowhere near as into it as the rest, and he’s attractive enough to warrant some voluntary notice.

“Yes—yes, that’s right,” he nods.

He’s handsome, that’s to say the least. Even in this dim lighting, it’s clear that he’s a bit of a looker, otherwise Ilhoon probably would have left the table with Sungjae to deal with on his own by now. Not that they’re supposed to get involved with customers outside of hours anyway, but it’s rare that somebody this put together and, seemingly, without any ulterior motives steps into the club. As long as he’s here, he’s free land for Ilhoon to roam.

“Don’t come to places like this very often, do you,” Ilhoon offers him a smile. “It’s okay, it’s just to drink and talk.”

“This isn’t quite what I had in mind when I was told that we’d be going to a club tonight,” he laughs.

“Well, we can still dance here if you like. Just no necking allowed. Against club policy, would you believe it,” Ilhoon jokes, because as low as standards are here, rules on physical contact are fortunately stricter than they’d seem.

“It’s fine,” Hyunsik smiles back at Ilhoon and it’s like nothing he’s ever seen before. It even has him forget what he was going to say next, and that’s not a common occurrence by any means. “Um, you’re very pretty, you know.”

Ilhoon’s heard it a thousand times before, it doesn’t really mean anything anymore, but it seems slightly different this time. It somehow doesn’t feel as shameful as it usually does, as if Hyunsik’s truly a decent guy, as if he’d even know that from just a few short exchanges. But he’s as good as they get here, and it doesn’t matter when he’ll most likely never see him again anyway.

“You’re not too bad yourself,” Ilhoon replies – it’s easy to butter somebody up when he can willingly look at them – and he does the favour of filling up Hyunsik’s glass again. “There’s no way that somebody like you could be single.”

“Well, I wouldn’t have dared to come if I wasn’t,” he leans in closer, away from the rest of the group, to speak through the music playing throughout the club. “Maybe it’s lucky that I am.”

“A bit of a flirt too,” Ilhoon smirks at him, although he knows that nothing can come of this. Nothing will, not when this isn’t even his usual self and nobody pays as much attention to him as Ilsoon. (Yet that doesn’t mean his heart isn’t starting to skip beats because of this guy.) “Don’t you think you should save that for some place else?”

“Should I?” he asks.

“If you don’t want to end up like most of the customers here, of course,” Ilhoon nudges him, and he’s only saying that to remind himself to maintain a distance.

Hyunsik laughs along with him, as he does for the rest of the night. He’s the only one paying Ilhoon any mind while Sungjae entertains who he discovers are Hyunsik’s work colleagues, and very noisy, and Ilhoon has no complaints about that. Hyunsik himself is rather nice – although Ilhoon has to admit that a handful of customers actually are and they’re just looking for temporary companionship – he puts him at ease somehow. He talks about himself openly and honestly, and Ilhoon almost finds himself sharing details about his life that he’s not supposed to, what it’s like once the sun has risen and he’s struggling elsewhere.

Hyunsik’s the type of person he’d like to know, throw his entire life at and trust with his whole heart to keep him safe if he could. If it wasn’t like this.

Not that he really knows him.

Ilhoon pulls down the hem of his skirt – an extra short one because he’s always had pride in his legs – when he stands up, and he sees them all off at the main entrance. Hyunsik leaves him a hefty tip and one more smile before he’s gone, and he’s left feeling oddly empty once he is. He’s never felt so bitter about a customer walking out of that door before, never this strange, like there’s a nagging voice at the back of his mind telling him that their business is unfinished.

But that’s what it is. Business. That’s it.

It’s almost deserted now and he sits at the bar by himself, asks for a glass of something that’ll make him feel better again. Sungjae’s wandered off to leech off of one of the last remaining tables, but Ilhoon isn’t in the mood to do the same. He drags his fingertip across the rim of his glass, circles it repeatedly before taking a long sip. He closes his eyes and allows it to hit the back of his throat, slowly, little by little. It’s enough to dampen his mood further.

When he lowers his glass again, Hyunsik’s making his way back over – although Ilhoon is pretty sure that he had left and so assumed he wouldn’t ever be returning in this lifetime – and he isn’t certain if his heart suddenly deciding to go into overdrive is actually an improvement.

“Hey, Ilsoon,” he says and his voice is so gentle, so kind, it makes Ilhoon want to correct him, tell him that it isn’t that at all. “Could I... could I maybe come and see you again sometime?”

“You don’t need permission,” he replies, nervous for some reason. “You can ask for me if you come back.”

“Okay,” Hyunsik nods, and it turns out that Ilhoon was completely wrong to believe that he wouldn’t have the privilege of seeing that smile again. “I’ll make sure that it’ll be soon.”

Whether that’s a promise or not, Ilhoon tries to avoid having expectations.

Hyunsik leaves for the second time. And Ilhoon removes his makeup in the dressing room in the back, pulls away every last piece of the puzzle he had carefully put together in order to construct Ilsoon in the first place once again, and he waits for Sungjae to finish up so that they can get out of here. They collect their earnings for the night and Ilhoon would have gotten more than this if he had bothered with the whole group, but he doesn’t quite regret it.

The city’s still dark in the early hours of the morning and the flashy neon signs take them along the familiar route back home. Ilhoon isn’t fond of it even now and he’s feeling conflicted in his heart, more so than most nights.

“That guy was very into you tonight. He didn’t stop looking at you once,” Sungjae says as they’re crossing an intersection. “What was his name again?”

“I don’t know,” Ilhoon lies.

“Mm, okay,” he replies as they reach the other side and they’re now in a more conventional part of the city. “By the way, you always pout like that when you lie. Just so you know.”

“Whatever,” Ilhoon speeds up ahead of him.

And, naturally, he tries to catch up, “Come on, hyung. Are you bummed out or something?”

“About what? About meeting a decent guy at that place?” Ilhoon snorts, and it comes out more serious than he had intended. He can never really keep anything from Sungjae after all.

“Well, I guess,” he shrugs at him and they start to pass the park near their apartment. “I know what your fake smiles look like. Each time I looked over, you were almost starry-eyed.”

“You were probably mistaken.”

Sungjae doesn’t drop it until they’re safely indoors and Ilhoon manages to get away from his questions by escaping to the shower. There’s nothing quite like a long, thorough wash at the end of a night to rid himself of the various scents he’s managed to pick up – mostly alcohol and the pungent colognes favoured by customers. It’s like the last step he takes in order to fully put the past hours behind him and ready himself for a morning of classes, if he bothers to wake up at all.

(That’s the intention, and yet he’s still got these lingering thoughts of Hyunsik coming back again as he stands under the hot water until it becomes cold. And here he thought that work was one place where he’d never meet anybody worth caring about.)

 

 

 

 

By day, Ilhoon’s nothing but an ordinary college student juggling textbooks with making ends meet. Sure, he managed to enrol in a highly ranking university against all odds and that’s an accomplishment in itself, but that doesn’t mean that those same setbacks aren’t still holding onto him. With one parent and no scholarship, he only blames the world for how much harder he has to push in order to get through this. It’s a persistent sense of abandonment from a higher force, if one even exists, that he’s yet to shake.

That’s why he started working in the first place. Clubs don’t need qualifications, years of experience, a flashy track record.

Ilhoon works pretty much every Friday and Saturday, but there are always the couple of weekdays too that kill his motivation to attend class once morning’s come around. It’s nothing short of a challenge to wake up for a lecture at nine after having slept for a number of hours that he can count on a single hand. But it’s life to him, and he’s got to continue onwards no matter what, if he wants to give back everything he’s ever been given and more.

With no work the previous night, he manages to wake up at an ideal time today. He showers again every morning, washes his face that seems so unpolished without makeup, makes breakfast for himself as Sungjae’s almost inhuman snoring seeps from his room. (He’s constantly offering to work. He finds real enjoyment in it anyway. Dress up, drink with and talk to men – it’s supposed to be easy money. Plus, he’s a literal genius. By some miracle, he barely needs classes to pass.)

Ilhoon takes the bus to campus, although he could walk if he tried to be faster. He watches the buildings out of the window pass him by rather than catch up on the reading he’s missed, allows a solemn kind of feeling to fill up in his chest as he spots office workers wandering the streets, as if one of them could possibly be—

It doesn’t matter.

He gives a quiet ‘thank you’ to the driver, he steps off at the stop closest to the university. There’s a gentle breeze in the air now that it’s spring and it at least won’t try to pull his cap away like the wind in winter. (He’s taken to wearing hats and his glasses on the regular since he started working. It’s to make it more difficult to recognise him, if a customer happens to encounter him elsewhere. He’s yet to actually experience it, but he can never be too careful. It’s a risk that he’d be a fool to take.)

Ilhoon likes to find a seat in the lecture theatre early. Less people bother to pay him any attention compared to if he enters when there are plenty of other students inside or, even worse, when he’s late. Not that many guys as young as they are tend to visit the club, it’s not quite about getting caught here, but it’s still uncomfortable regardless – having so many pairs of eyes laid on him rather than just one or a few.

He focuses the best he can on the contents of today’s class since he’s managed to attend and he may as well, instead of making up for it in the weeks leading up to finals once again. He scribbles down notes, avoids checking his phone like a good student should, yet part of him is longing to return to work for the first time ever, desperate to find out if he was lied to or not.

As if he should care.

 

 

 

 

Friday night is back at the club with glittering lights and drinks poured over trivial conversations as usual. There’s a small group here today – one that visits from time to time, a bunch of construction workers that aren’t so bad compared to some customers. (One’s got hands that can be a bit grabby every now and then, but he’s tame for a guy who visits a place like this.) Ilhoon sips his grape juice disguised as wine while laughing along with their attempts at jokes, humours them as much as he can in order to get to their wallets and take home more than what he needs. He’s gotten far better at controlling his face since he first started, and with that comes the desired reward.

He presses the neckline of his dress to his chest as he refills each of their glasses – he’s got a burden to hide – and crosses one leg over the other before listening to yet another of their tales.

Until heels come clicking against the ground, closer and closer, before they can finish.

“Unnie,” Sungjae calls from a short distance, gives him a bit of a smirk, then he turns his head towards a table across the club with one familiar customer sitting on his own. “You’ve got somebody waiting for you.”

And Ilhoon’s heart hits the back of his chest at the sight of him. (He’d never admit it though.)

“I’m sorry, but we’ll have to talk again some other time,” he says to the group in the sweetest way possible. “You will return for me, won’t you?”

He gets up from their booth and fixes his wig first of all. Sungjae passes him in order to take over where he had left off. He pulls up his stockings next, back up to the middle of thighs where they should be, and heads over with an odd reluctance inside of him.

He smiles at Hyunsik anyway, flashes him a bright and pretty one like he’s supposed to for any paying customer. He cozies up next to him and the nervousness coming over him continues to build up.

“I’m kind of surprised that you actually came back,” is his way of greeting Hyunsik tonight.

“You didn’t think that I’d keep to my word?” he asks, but he’s not quite offended.

“It’s nothing against you personally, but it’s a general rule not to trust customers,” he replies, although a tiny piece of him wanted to trust him with all that he had. He almost did.

Hyunsik’s got his eyes fixed on Ilhoon as he pours him a drink. They’re in a rather gentle gaze – he notices as he takes a quick glance at him – but it feels as if they’re staring inside of him, trying to see through him and into who he actually is.

“So, what’s a guy like you doing here again, hm?” he asks, genuinely curious as Hyunsik takes a sip from his glass.

“I just wanted to see you,” he says afterwards.

“What, so that we can be friends?” Ilhoon covers his mouth as he laughs to himself. “I’m only here to pretend.”

“Well, let’s pretend to enjoy each other’s company tonight then,” he still smiles at Ilhoon and it’s like the realest thing he’s ever seen around here. He doesn’t even have it in him to respond to that. “How have you been?”

“Me? Fine,” Ilhoon replies instinctively, then he remembers he’s here to provide a service. He flutters his eyelashes and prepares to lay the charm on thick. “And yourself? What have you been up to lately?”

“Just work, really. It’s all that I do.”

“You must be so tired,” Ilhoon leans in closer, allows their legs to press into each other just a bit. “Maybe I could help you unwind a little.”

It’s actually not the first time Ilhoon’s offered a customer a small massage – sometimes it’s the extra mile he goes in order to rack up a substantial tip. Hyunsik turns his back to him so willingly and his shoulders are broad for Ilhoon to get his hands on. He gets himself stuck in, kneads his fingers along either side of his spine and gets to each area that he says need the most attention. It’s not much to brag about, but Ilhoon considers himself pretty good at it.

“Feeling better?” he asks once he’s done.

Hyunsik turns himself around, sits back again, a satisfied smile starting to show, “Definitely. I wouldn’t mind having that every day.”

“Well, I’m unfortunately not here all week,” Ilhoon shies away from his view, just in case he notices the look on his face.

“Then I guess that I’ll have to try my luck at visiting you again,” he smiles wider and Ilhoon isn’t sure if he’s kidding.

And yet he laughs along anyway, “You’re really not seeing anyone, huh?”

“Nobody,” Hyunsik shakes his head.

“I see,” Ilhoon somehow feels glad, as if it should matter to him at all. It’s usually to clear his conscience, but this time it’s like something more than relief. “I mean, not that we’re here to judge.”

“You don’t believe me?”

“Good-looking men are the biggest liars, don’t you know.”

Hyunsik takes it as the joke Ilhoon tries to pass it off as although it’s true, at least to him. He’s not here to be serious anyway. He’s here to provide a fun time and drinks laced with a hint of flirting, an inauthentic experience that feels so genuine.

But his usual persona is starting to slip in Hyunsik’s company and he’s mistaking this for reality.

“Where is it that you work again? A bank, was it?”

Hyunsik answers that, yes, he works at a local branch and Ilhoon makes a mental note to avoid that place from now on despite being uncertain where it is.

“Could you tell me a bit about yourself?” Hyunsik asks after setting down his glass.

And Ilhoon tries to shrug off the question as he pours him some more wine, “Hm? There isn’t much worth knowing.”

“That can’t be true.”

“Well, what do you want to know about me?” he humours him while knowing better than most things that he shouldn’t.

Hyunsik pauses to think first, “How about what you like to do in your free time?”

“I really don’t do anything except sleep and watch TV,” Ilhoon replies. That’s all he has time for on most days.

“That’s okay. Neither do I, if I’m being honest with you.”

“I guess that we’re not too different then.”

Hyunsik shrugs to himself, and he says, “You make me want to know you though.”

Part of Ilhoon wishes that he didn’t.

Hyunsik stays until the ungodly hours of the morning for no good reason. He holds his alcohol well as Ilhoon drinks his grape juice, and he doesn’t judge when he reveals the actual contents of his glass and how much of a lightweight he truly is. He’s considerate like that, although it isn’t a huge deal. He doesn’t make Ilhoon feel bad in any way except for the unintentional reasons that aren’t exactly his fault, the reminders at the back of his mind that none of this means a thing and that it’s all make-believe.

Ilhoon still smiles at Hyunsik with his entire heart as the time comes to leave. He can’t seem to help it when he’s given him what feels like so much already, has him look forward to coming back here again for the first time in his life. He doesn’t resist it either, for once. Instead, he braces himself for the possibility of something, just _anything_ , despite not knowing what, like there’s a kind of desperation inside of him now. A desperation for Hyunsik not to leave him out here on his own.

 

 

 

 

It’s easy to fall asleep on buses when as tired as Ilhoon is during the day. He wakes up on the way through some part of the city he’s unfamiliar with – most definitely past the apartment – and he presses the stop button in a panic. He gets off at the next stop and sits in the shelter, waiting for a bus back to come by. It’s almost evening now so it’s no wonder that he had dozed off, but he’ll need to take a nap before heading to work and that’ll only happen if he can get himself home.

It doesn’t take too long for the bus to pull up. Ilhoon finds a seat by a window so that he can try keeping himself awake by focusing on what’s outside. They pass a gallery, various stores, a bank.

Perhaps the exact one he had been told about the other night, although he isn’t sure where he is at the moment. He wonders if Hyunsik is in there anyway, and whether he’d recognise him if he was to step inside. He wouldn’t have the guts to even if he was walking by right now.

Ilhoon drifts off almost the second he lands on his bed. He dreams vividly for once – it’s a foolish one that he’d know better than to have if he was fully conscious – that Hyunsik would come and take him away in the middle of the night. There’s his same old smile on his face and his outstretched hand as he anticipates Ilhoon’s answer.

And he tries to take a hold of him, he decides that he really would want to go wherever he’s headed, but he’s gone before he knows it.

Ilhoon wakes up again, this time in a cold sweat and he’s never felt this lost before, even after everything else that has been thrown at him in life. It’s true that he’s started to long for him—or perhaps just _somebody_ —and that’s one thing he thought he had managed to develop an immunity to. Ilhoon needing anyone is a concept he’s been long rejecting, yet he’s clearly been mistaken.

 

 

 

 

Hyunsik’s a bit of a regular now, would Ilhoon believe it. He even lets him in on his schedule like he shouldn’t, just so that he can come when he’s around and maybe so that Ilhoon won’t have to deal with the usual kinds that frequent the club too. It’s not supposed to be part of the job – it never has been – but he allows the two of them to connect on what seems like a personal level. It’s possibly self-indulgent (or definitely). It makes him feel better after all, less lonely and more human in a way. Hyunsik’s the most kind-hearted guy he’s ever met in or outside of the club and, as much as he knows that he shouldn’t rest any hopes on him, he does it anyway.

There are customers who will try to ask if hostesses are free after hours, but none of them are Hyunsik. (And yet Ilhoon is the one wanting to ask him the same question.)

Perhaps there’d be too much at stake anyway, if he considers it rationally. He’s not nearly as pretty to look at without his makeup, cute wig and tight-fitting clothing, at least not to him when he catches his ordinary reflection in the mirror. Sure, Hyunsik enjoys his company, but so does every other customer and Ilhoon knows that they’re there for Ilsoon.

Obviously, since that’s exactly what the club is for.

Something about the way Hyunsik talks to him, even looks at him, doesn’t feel the same though, like he’s really trying to get past Ilsoon and to Ilhoon. He’s succeeding too and, frankly, Ilhoon would be lying if he claimed that that doesn’t frighten him at least a bit. Not that Ilsoon’s perfect either, but letting Hyunsik in only to leave him disappointed is what he fears the most. That he’d change his mind completely.

Of course, Ilhoon’s still jumping to conclusions. It’s not like he actually knows Hyunsik, or that Hyunsik wants to live happily ever after with him. It’s all in his head, and maybe everything is part of an elaborate fantasy he had started to construct because _he_ likes Hyunsik.

Well, it’s not that he doesn’t, really.

The sight of him at the entrance or waiting at a table never fails to brighten up his day, even if the aftermath leaves him feeling more incomplete than ever. He drops existing customers for him by having other hostesses take over every time. He allows him an arm over his shoulder when they sit together, lets it lower to his waist once they’ve had a few drinks and feels the goosebumps prick up on his skin when his hand holds onto him. (The thing is, Hyunsik knows how to keep his hands to himself unlike some customers, but he’s the only one Ilhoon actually doesn’t mind touching him. If he could make the rules around here, there’d be nobody else.)

“Oppa,” he calls him now although it makes him blush each time he hears himself say it. “Have you missed me?”

“I always do,” Hyunsik smiles so warmly, it’s real. It’s got to be.

“Been working hard?” Ilhoon asks with one hand firm on Hyunsik’s lap.

He nods, and Ilhoon gives him the usual. It’s out of what he believes is care though, a way to hint at the hidden affection he has for him, not simply to loosen up his wallet while that’s probably a bonus. But he wouldn’t accept Hyunsik’s money if he could. It’s a painful reminder at the end of the night that it’s just business, he’s just a service, and Hyunsik’s just a customer after all.

“Ilsoonie, you’re looking really good tonight.”

“Must be the new lip gloss,” Ilhoon smirks at him, the artificial taste of cherry on the tip of his tongue.

“Mm, red suits you,” Hyunsik nods.

He looks just as pleasant, if not better. He always does. He’s wearing a white shirt with the top button unfastened, his hair’s as neat as ever and he faintly smells like a kind of cologne that’s easier to take in than the choices of most customers. He’s endlessly attractive – still is – and that only makes it worse. At least if some guy’s got a positive quality to him around here, it tends to be only looks or a decent personality. It’s one or the other, but not Hyunsik.

He’s been too blessed in life and Ilhoon’s most definitely been cursed by him.

He takes a sip of his juice and sets down his glass, “Oppa, don’t you have to get home yet?”

“Do you want me to go?” Hyunsik asks with a smile. His arm is hanging over Ilhoon’s shoulder and it feels a little intimate, being this close to each other, when a passing touch is already enough for Ilhoon to want him to stay by his side forever.

“You just seem so tired,” Ilhoon lightly pats the top of Hyunsik’s thigh.

Not that tiredness stops either of them. Hyunsik leaves slightly earlier tonight though and that’s fine. Besides, it’s a weekday and he doesn’t have the option to skip out on work like Ilhoon does for class. And maybe he’ll come back the next time Ilhoon is here and for a while he can forget. Forget that there’s still this distance between them that he isn’t sure how to get across, or whether he should.

 

 

 

 

Hyunsik’s in the apartment—in Ilhoon’s _bedroom_ —his hands are all over him and it’s so hot in here that it’s difficult to breathe properly. His fingertips pressing into Ilhoon’s skin, his hips, thighs, the side of his face, are even hotter yet and his mouth against his neck practically burns.

Ilhoon has no clue how they even got here in the first place. (Perhaps he’s drunk. He does things that are both ridiculous and what he wants when he’s drunk, and he does feel rather dazed. He never gets more than tipsy at work though – this isn’t making sense.) He just holds onto Hyunsik’s shoulders and goes with it anyway, lets him go ahead and suck bruises that he’ll have to cover up for work.

He hadn’t even realised that he isn’t Ilsoon right now, but there’s still hot pink lip gloss smeared across Hyunsik’s face when he looks at him and this is one more thing that isn’t quite adding up. There’s not enough time to think though, not when Hyunsik’s hands are slowly guiding his downwards, lower and lower, and it’s—

A dream. Yet another one.

Ilhoon blushes so hard at the thought of it that he can’t even move for a few seconds. He’s feeling slightly sticky under his sheets and it’s kind of a huge embarrassment that it’s somehow come to this.

At least nobody has to know but him. (And he’d be lying if he said that he wasn’t the tiniest bit interested in finding out what he was about to see. No one has to know that either though.)

 

 

 

 

It’s a warm afternoon. Ilhoon wanders the supermarket closest to the university to pick up a list of items before heading home for the day. He has about half of them already in his basket – he’s got shampoo left to find, some bleach for the bathroom and bleach for his roots too.

He reaches the aisle for cleaning products first – it smells all too chemical here that it’s headache-inducing to him if he stays for longer than a couple of minutes. He grabs a bottle by a familiar brand and leaves before he’s nauseous.

Hair products are in an aisle further down. He makes his way over there so he can browse the various boxes of dye through his glasses like a shelf in a library. He’s got the bleach in his hands, but he needs a dye to tone what’ll be hideously fluorescent without it. Perhaps a darker colour than he currently has to make a slight change, or just the same shade he’s maintained for a while now.

In the end, after much deliberation, he settles on an ashy brown. It’ll draw less attention than the brassy dark blonde he’s had going on. He drops the box into his basket and approaches the shampoos and conditioners towards the other end of the shelves.

There’s an offer today so he grabs a bottle of each – the usual type he gets – although he only came for shampoo. The basket’s heavy now and he’s done. He goes to exit the aisle by the way closest to the checkouts until another shopper walks into it, and his stomach sinks at the sight of him.

It’s Hyunsik, of course.

Of course it is. And after that dream Ilhoon had the other night, this all feels worse and far more embarrassing than it should. He pulls the peak of his cap lower, over his eyes, acts as if he hasn’t noticed him. He pretends to inspect yet more hair products despite the contents of his basket, and he tries to appear deeply occupied with reading the back of a tub of wax that he doesn’t even use.

And still he finds him there when he turns around, as if everything comes back to him somehow, for some reason.

Hyunsik’s speechless at first, it takes a short moment for him to actually speak, “Il—”

“Ilhoon,” he interrupts before he can even say it. He’s not supposed to hear her name anywhere but the club. Never. It’s an uncommon one after all. “It’s Ilhoon.”

“It suits you,” he replies, unfazed, and it’s oddly reminiscent of a few nights ago. “I’m wondering if I should reintroduce myself.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Ilhoon insists.

He remembers to be self-conscious now. He speculates whether he looks far worse than Hyunsik had expected, if he’s realising that it’s the false eyelashes and the lip gloss full of glitter that he likes. As if his stomach dropping wasn’t bad enough, it’s starting to turn.

“You’re very pretty, you know, Ilhoon,” Hyunsik says against all odds, like the first time they had met, and Ilhoon can’t help but crack a smile. And Hyunsik grins back at him. “There it is.”

“I wasn’t trying to avoid you, by the way,” Ilhoon attempts to clarify, although it’s hardly the truth.

“It’s okay, I understand.”

The conversation dwindles when Ilhoon is far more focused on what Hyunsik could be thinking than the way he’s actually looking at him – the same way he does whenever they’re together, he realises.

“Don’t you have some place else to be right now?” he asks him.

“Not really. I just came to collect a new razor and some ingredients for dinner tonight, but it’s still early,” Hyunsik shrugs. There’s an onion, tomatoes and herbs – Ilhoon doesn’t know what exactly – in his basket. “Actually, you could join me if you’d like.”

And he’s completely taken aback, “Me? I don’t know about that.”

“Beats eating alone by a long shot.”

“Then alright, hyung,” Ilhoon says although he doesn't quite feel allowed. To call him that and to get into this at all.

Regardless, they pay for their items separately and leave together. They walk in the opposite direction to Ilhoon’s apartment, towards a rather nice area of the city he hasn’t been to before. It’s just the type of place where Hyunsik would fit right in.

“You’re not working tonight, are you?” he asks on their way past a convenience store.

Ilhoon shakes his head, “No.”

They reach Hyunsik’s home – an apartment on an upper floor as neat and tidy as he is. It has a fresh scent to it like clean sheets and good housekeeping, and it seems very him. Ilhoon’s asked if he’d like a tour first, but he politely declines in case he takes too much of a liking to it. He sits on the couch instead, as he’s been invited to, and Hyunsik brings over a glass of water for him. It’s a change from juice.

“Sometimes I still feel like I don’t know a thing about you,” Hyunsik drops about a few minutes into the conversation.

“Then, let’s start now,” Ilhoon suggests like this is a real chance to get somewhere now and it’d be ridiculous not to take it. “I’m Jung Ilhoon, twenty years old, and I’m a computer science major, if you can believe it.”

He doesn’t tell Hyunsik the reasons why he had started working. He’s not here to make him feel sorry for him. Besides, he’s probably loaded for his age and he’s definitely not living too shabbily despite the lack of sleep. To a lot of people, that’s considered success, even if it means pushing through nights of lonely strangers and prying eyes to get it. At times, it doesn’t feel like he’s achieved anything here though. He hints that he hates what he does and maybe Hyunsik’s smart enough to catch on.

Not that there’s much that he can do about it.

Hyunsik cooks dinner without needing a reference – a simple spaghetti but Ilhoon recognises that it takes effort nonetheless. All he does is microwave instant meals back at home, so this is a triumph in comparison. They eat with a discussion on whatever comes to mind and none of that happens to be about work. That doesn’t necessarily mean that Hyunsik doesn’t have questions, but perhaps he’s considerate enough to reserve them.

“Do you have class tomorrow?” he asks instead.

“Yeah.”

“You’d better get home and sleep early tonight then,” he smiles across the table and it’s got Ilhoon thinking that he truly cares, if he’s not being too hopeful. It’s like an exchange between two people who have been long in love and will look forward to nothing but the next time this happens again.

But Ilhoon feels that way too, if it’s possible, even if they’re not that at all.

“Yeah,” he repeats himself, and he pauses in case there’s the tiniest possibility that Hyunsik would ask him to stay for a bit longer. If there is, it’s perhaps too small for anything to actually happen. “I should.”

“Not that I’m trying to get rid of you, but if you do want to go—”

“I don’t really,” Ilhoon admits. He feels himself blush – he knows by the heat building up in his face – and he lowers his head.

Hyunsik just replies, without resistance, “Okay.”

 

 

 

 

“Something about you seems different today,” Sungjae says through the sound of the movie he’s supposedly watching. “Not exactly _off_ , I guess, but it’s kind of unusual, whatever it is.”

Ilhoon’s got a cup of steaming instant noodles in one hand and a bottle of water in the other as he makes his way over from the kitchen, “What do you mean by that,”

“I mean, you seem upbeat. For you.”

“You think so?” Ilhoon snorts as he sits down with him.

“Yeah,” he nods to himself, then he leans closer. “Has something happened?”

At first, Ilhoon brushes it off, like he does with most things. It was nothing, surely. Nothing but a chance encounter and Hyunsik’s excessive kindness in action again. Even after that, Ilhoon doesn’t have Hyunsik’s number, and Hyunsik doesn’t have his, and that seems like enough of a sign that this isn’t a personal thing. But at this point, it obviously isn’t entirely business either.

Ilhoon realises that Sungjae is probably the only person he has to talk about this with though, unless he wishes to continue dwelling on it on his own instead.

“Sungjae, I had dinner with him.”

He pauses the television immediately, “Who— _the guy_?”

Ilhoon slowly nods, “At his place.”

“Hyung, what happened—”

“Nothing, really. That’s the most confusing thing about it,” he crosses his arms and sits back, tries to get his mind around it but he can’t seem to no matter what. “I don’t know. We bumped into each other at the supermarket. I wasn’t sure if he’d even be able to tell that it was me, but he could. And then he just asked me to have dinner with him like it was nothing.”

“That’s crazy.”

“You’re telling me,” Ilhoon frowns to himself. “I don’t know what he wants from me. I mean, he could easily do better.”

“Well, can’t everybody? It’s not something that matters when in love.”

“Sungjae, are you implying that he’s—”

“In love with you, yes. Probably,” Sungjae replies so calmly it’s unsettling. “And do you know what? I think you feel the same way about him.”

“Maybe.”

“Tell him then,” he grins big and wide.

“No way,” Ilhoon turns away as if that’s the most absurd thing he’s heard all day (and it isn’t by far when Sungjae had told him about last night’s work this morning). He’s never admitted such a thing to anybody for as long as he’s been alive – it’s just not what he does.

But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t feel this so strongly that it’s all he can think about at times.

 

 

 

 

Hyunsik still comes to the club as routine, still pays for Ilhoon’s time. He still refers to him as Ilsoon here and, despite all other possible reasons, he had started to let himself believe that it was because Hyunsik prefers him like this.

That is, until he vaguely suggested making him a little something to eat after a long night of work (when Ilhoon would have killed for another chance to go home with him).

Since then it’s been part of the routine. Once it’s time to close up, Hyunsik stays lingering around outside on the streets, waits for Ilhoon to clear his face and change his clothes. It’s got him thinking that it really is about him, and the two of them. There’s no difference in the way Hyunsik is regardless of what Ilhoon looks like or how he acts when they’re together. He’s always the same and it almost feels undeserved.

“I have some leftover rice and chicken. Would that be okay for you tonight?”

Of course. Anything Hyunsik’s willing to offer Ilhoon is good enough and better. He sets off the microwave and brings it over once it’s ready.

“Eat up,” he smiles and he’s already digging at his own bowl with his chopsticks.

They go through the motions similar to a couple of people in love every late night and early morning that they’re together – illusions of romance, it seems. Hyunsik feeds Ilhoon until he’s full up, they share both light-hearted and deep conversations over the faint noise of the television in the background, and then Ilhoon’s way too tired to even consider attending class at all no matter what the time. Perhaps it’s a one-way ticket to ruining his own life, and yet here he still is.

Hyunsik knows almost everything now – the keyword being _almost_ – that Ilhoon’s an only child of an only parent, that his father had left before he had the chance to even meet him, that none of this has ever been what he’s wanted. He makes telling him easy, and all he does is listen like Ilhoon needs him to, and he doesn’t intrude where he’s not welcome.

But what he doesn’t know is that there’s a large place in Ilhoon’s heart reserved just for him now and that he’s been doing his best to keep it from becoming obvious. Or so he believes.

“Oh—you haven’t been to class in a week?”

“I mean, it doesn’t matter that much if I don’t turn up since I can make up for it. It’s not a huge deal— _hyung_ —”

In a bout of spontaneity, Hyunsik tries to hold his hand for the first time ever – it’s taken longer than it could have to get to this, but he’s a patient guy and he knows how to wait – and Ilhoon lets him as if he’ll never have the chance again. He allows his fingers to slip under his, make them all warm and his heart even warmer.

Ilhoon continues as if his face isn’t starting to flush as he speaks, “Um—anyway, I’ll just cram for finals. That’s what I always do.”

“Is it possible to get some time off work?” Hyunsik asks, tightening his grip.

“No, but I can handle it,” Ilhoon insists, because he has for the past year. (But by now he’d be asleep at home and at least trying to attend in the morning.) “Oh—look, the sun is rising again. I should probably get going.”

“I don’t mind.”

“You can’t skip work either, remember.”

Hyunsik only shrugs at him, “I haven’t called in sick in over a year.”

“Okay, and what exactly do you want me to stick around for?” Ilhoon asks.

“I’ve just been waiting for the right opportunity,” Hyunsik starts to say, then pauses. He’s got a glint in his eye and a soft kind of smile on his face, one that isn’t as bold as his usual ones but just as perfect. “But I think that if I leave it any longer than now, it’ll be way overdue.”

He leans in, closer and closer yet, and Ilhoon braces himself for what he’s never imagined would happen to somebody whose dreams no longer come true. Hyunsik kisses him with a feather-light touch as if anything more will hurt him, break him. And maybe it actually would.

Ilhoon should be overjoyed. There should be nothing but a rush of explosions in his heart and mind, multi-coloured and intoxicating. That should be the only feeling he has right now, but he’s overwhelmed, filling up with a strange sort of guilt on the inside and this isn’t everything that he had wanted. Hyunsik wasn’t supposed to come and make it all better, no. He was never supposed to be his knight in shining armour to sweep him off of his feet. But Ilhoon’s been selfish to have let himself believe it, and that was his first mistake.

If he was better than this he could feel at least worthy.

Not that he actually tries to stop him though. His greed to be Hyunsik’s and his only, for Hyunsik to love him and call him that could be greater than the voice in his head – his own voice – telling him again and again that this will never be anything. He guides Hyunsik’s hands towards the collar of his shirt with his own, in desperation, lets them fiddle with the top button exactly how he wants them to. And he reaches out to Hyunsik’s belt, starts pulling the end from the loop of his pants, and—

No, this isn’t right. This isn’t—

Ilhoon doesn’t have any idea what’s come over him. He hasn’t known since the first time they had even laid eyes on each other, but none of this should be happening at all.

“What are we doing, hyung. Really,” he says once it’s sunken in a bit more, but he doesn’t even pull his hands away yet. “I mean—no—what am _I_ doing.”

And he’s sorry, but he isn’t going to let this be the ending that Hyunsik settles for.

“I don’t get why you’re like this to me. Why you’re so nice, and why you bother to do all of these things for me. I don’t understand it,” he shakes his head to himself. “I mean, why _me_.”

“It’s just because you’re you,” Hyunsik stays put other than his hands dropping to his lap, his leg still pressing into Ilhoon’s despite the rest of the space on the couch. “I don’t have a reason.”

That’s the most Hyunsik response he could possibly give.

“I’ve been trying to figure out why you feel the need to chase after me, because I sometimes get the feeling that it’s pity and I don’t want that,” Ilhoon can’t even look him in the eye now. It’d be too much.

“It’s not, Ilhoon, it really isn’t, I... I just wanted to get to know you. I don’t know why, but I just did,” Hyunsik says and his voice is still as calm and gentle as ever. And Ilhoon knows that he felt the exact same. “But once I had, when you had told me that you hated that place, I wanted to do something— _anything_. I thought that I could stop... that you wouldn’t have to be with those guys you hate if I was with you instead,” he pauses for a moment and there’s dead silence throughout it. “But I know that I was also making the assumption that I wasn’t like them.”

“You aren’t,” Ilhoon agrees wholeheartedly. He isn’t at all, but that’s the problem. “But I don’t want you to feel that you have to waste your time saving me either.”

“It’s not—”

“Stop—” Ilhoon’s voice finally cracks, and it’s taking everything to stop the rest of himself from crumbling along with it. “I feel as if I like you so much, more than anyone or anything I ever have before, but I’m nothing, so please, don’t look at me like that,” he tries to resist when Hyunsik pulls him close, into his arms, and when he gives in it’s like the dam has fallen apart at last. Ilhoon’s never even cried in front of Sungjae before. “I—I’m not using you—none of this is your fault, none of it—”

Hyunsik doesn’t deny it, but he doesn’t accept it either. He doesn’t say a word. He just holds Ilhoon to his chest, presses a palm to the back of his head and threads his fingers into his hair, offers him a shoulder that he didn’t know he needed. It’s like he’s got a magic touch that’ll make even the highest mountains in Ilhoon’s mind seem like nothing.

But reality is still reality, and he shouldn’t even be here.

He gets it together like he’s always taught himself to, composes himself once again, and he reminds Hyunsik, “It’s already six. I have to go.”

The first break he can feel in his chest, if it isn’t only his imagination, is when he gets up off of Hyunsik’s couch. The next is while they’re standing by the door and he isn’t sure if this is the last time that he’ll have the privilege of being in here, if he can keep away from this point onwards.

“It’s me. I’ve been letting this continue for too long,” he avoids making eye contact even now. “We’re too different, you know. We were never supposed to be together.”

The last and longest fracture of the morning starts when he’s outside on Hyunsik’s street, and it doesn’t stop until he’s walked the entire way back home – it’s probably enough to split his heart right into two. It has his mouth run drier with each step, and it doesn’t feel like he’s had a weight lifted from him at all. If anything, it’s heavier. He’s just got worse feelings piled on top of inconvenient ones now.

 

 

 

 

It’s rare for Sungjae to attend class and to be the one to come home to Ilhoon sitting in the living room. (Or lying there in distress, rather, limbs hanging off of the couch and a lack of desire to even move.) Sungjae drops himself into the free space at the end, and he smacks Ilhoon’s foot.

“Where were you this morning?” he asks.

Ilhoon eventually speaks after contemplating whether he should bother, “If I tell you, you’re going to jump to conclusions.”

“Oh, the usual. With your _boyfriend_?”

“He’s not—”

“He may as well be.”

“We didn’t get up to anything weird, if that’s what you’re thinking,” Ilhoon rolls his eyes and he frowns so terribly when he has to recall once again what had happened. (It’s all he’s been doing since he got here anyway.) “Instead, I had a bit of a breakdown and he was still nice about it. But that’s all. That’s that.”

“What do you mean?” Sungjae continues with the questions, as fully expected.

“Nothing’s going to happen between us. The end,” Ilhoon crosses his arms when he sits up, crosses one leg over the other too.

“Are you joking right now?”

“Clearly not.”

“Let me get this straight,” Sungjae tilts his head to think it through. “You find a decent guy who you’ve actually taken a liking to, plus he hasn’t irritated you yet either, and it’s just going to end like that? When he likes you too?” his eyes are so wide now he doesn’t even look real. “Hyung, you can’t be serious.”

“Well, I am.”

“Need I remind you that you’re in love with him?”

“So what, Sungjae,” Ilhoon shrugs and hardly a word he’s said has been more than a facade, a brave face trying to hide how torn up he’s been all morning. “What was that saying again? If you love someone, let them go? Yeah, that.”

“I mean, that’s bullshit anyway, but I don’t get this. Any of it,” Sungjae shakes his head.

“Take a look at me, and then at him, the difference between us.”

“I just see two people who like each other,” he replies, the most serious he’s ever been as he looks Ilhoon directly in the eyes. “You know, hyung, you may hate what we do and I don’t blame you for that, but just because that’s our job doesn’t mean we’re not good enough for the world. It isn’t wrong or selfish to allow yourself to be loved by somebody. I thought you knew that, because you would always tell me the same thing.”

And Ilhoon had forgotten, like he’s forgotten who he was and the reasons why Sungjae had always loved him so much since they were at school together, why he’d looked up to him at all. Ilhoon didn’t mean to lose himself like this, to beat himself down this much that nobody else would ever do it worse. He’s been spending so much time building up walls that he hadn’t considered what he’d do if someone happened to come along and convince him just enough to create an opening for them.

But it turns out that a person has.

 

 

 

 

Work continues as always – it can never stop. Ilhoon waits for the glue along his false eyelashes to become tacky before sticking them on. It’s an art he’s managed to perfect by now. He reaches for the curler on the dressing table next to blend them into his real ones, the mascara afterwards to finish them off. Lipstick or gloss is always the absolute final touch to a look though. He picks a deep plum colour tonight because it matches the dress he’s wearing.

“Ilsoon,” the hostess – a long-time worker here – applying makeup at the table to his right calls out. “You know that you’re not supposed to hang out with any of these guys outside of work, right?”

Not that he’s made much of an effort to avoid being seen with Hyunsik after hours, but he didn’t think anyone who it would concern had spotted them together.

“Yeah. I know,” Ilhoon nods with a somewhat genuine smile.

“Just be careful, okay? You don’t know what people are capable of.”

“Don’t worry about it. It won’t be happening anymore,” he replies, and he’s still set on following through with his word because he’s messed it up now and there probably isn’t much else he can do about it.

The doors open at eight and Ilhoon waits at the bar for customers to arrive. There’s no sign of Hyunsik, which he’ll admit doesn’t seem to clear the clouds hanging over his head in the slightest because at the back of his mind he had held onto a small hope that he’d still return. Yet again. He should be relieved though, as his absence is one thing that’ll save any temptation. That’s step one to getting on with his life.

Ilhoon ends up bringing a glass and a bottle over to his old regular. He’s never been one to request Ilhoon in particular, but step two is going back to doing things the way he used to before Hyunsik.

“It’s been a while,” he says as he takes a seat in the booth. “How about I pour you a glass of your favourite and you tell me how you’ve been?”

Ilhoon twirls a lock of his wig as he nods and pretends to listen to whatever this guy’s saying. He doesn’t care or want to know. He’s just here to bat his eyelashes at him until he leaves, pocket the contents of his wallet and add to the savings that he’s been holding onto for far too long.

He hasn’t meant to.

During a conversation about how this guy’s work has been going these days – not much different to the last time they had spoken, so not that spectacularly – Ilhoon happens to glance across the club, at a table with no hostess but one customer sitting at it. He doesn’t have a clue how long he’s been there, but Ilhoon still being over here means that he hasn’t requested him tonight and that’s all that he does.

He waits to be told that he’s been asked for, expects it like second nature as he continues to be interested in what he’s supposed to be listening to. But nothing.

The next time he looks over, Sungjae is at the table too. They’re talking, it’s seemingly serious because neither are quite smiling, and that’s only more nerve-racking.

“Are you alright?” he’s suddenly asked and he nods instinctively, to avoid prompting any further questions.

Hyunsik’s already gone by the time Ilhoon’s saying his farewells to this guy, that same old empty feeling in his heart that he’d get whenever he’d leave and that was it for the night. Sungjae catches him before they move onto new customers.

“I need to have a word with you later,” he says as he grabs him by the arm, and then he’s making his way over to another table before he even knows it.

As if he needs another reason to be anxious.

The night drags on as it does, and Ilhoon hasn’t got any attention left to give by the end. He sips some wine at the bar – his second real glass since he arrived earlier – and heads to the dressing room to clear up his face and change his clothes afterwards. Sungjae comes a moment later than Ilhoon, and they leave through the back exit and walk home together once they’re both done, like they used to.

“So, I spoke to—”

“I saw,” Ilhoon interrupts him before he can finish.

“Yeah, and he didn’t expect you to come over, but he just wants to know if you’re okay,” Sungjae continues and that’s so typically Hyunsik. “So are you?”

“I don’t know.”

“Don’t say that if you mean—”

“No,” Ilhoon tries not to roll his eyes like he always does without being able to help it. “No, I’m not.”

“Thought so. Anyway, I hope you don’t mind me getting involved with your business, but I already have.”

“What have you done now?”

Sungjae gives him a shrug, “Well, I found out just how much he cares about you, which is a lot. Said if he’s made you feel bad in any way, he couldn’t be more sorry.”

“I see,” Ilhoon sighs to himself. That’s one thing he didn’t want to hear. “And what else?”

“Well, it’s up to you, but he’d like it if the two of you could talk about, I guess, everything. Clear it up. Say goodbye if that’s what you want.”

“I don’t think it is,” Ilhoon fully realises when they’ve reached the outside of the apartment building.

“Yeah?” Sungjae replies as he punches in the security code and lets them both in. “He also didn’t have the chance to tell you something. I’m not going to say it, but I think that you know what.”

And Ilhoon does now, although he’s had his doubts all along and that was one of the very things that had frightened him. Being mistaken and falling in the process. This wasn’t supposed to happen, none of it was, but maybe life just works in strange ways sometimes and there was no real reason for him to try stopping it.

“God, Sungjae, I’ve been such an idiot.”

“Hmm?” they step into the elevator and he presses the button for their floor.

“You’ll probably never hear me say this again, so listen: you were right. You’ve been right all this time and I didn’t want to listen even though I knew it, but I’ve changed my mind,” the doors open and they make their way towards the apartment, and Ilhoon bites down on his lip before continuing. “I’m going to fix this, okay.”

“I’m glad,” Sungjae smiles as he inserts the key into the lock and turns it. “Then what’s the plan?”

He hasn’t thought about that yet. He comes up with a rough idea on the spot.

“Well, I’m going to talk to him,” he assumes. “I’m going to explain things better, say sorry that I’ve been such a mess, tell him that I am okay, that I—” Ilhoon hesitates for a second, but he reminds himself that it’s true. “That I love him. I guess.”

“You guess?”

“Yeah.”

“Jung Ilhoon admitting that he’s wrong, _and_ planning on apologising and confessing to a human being? Something must be in the air today,” a wide grin spreads across Sungjae’s face.

And Ilhoon nudges him hard, “Come on, Sungjae.”

“I’m just kidding, hyung.”

So that’s that – for real this time, and Ilhoon’s already feeling far better about it than he did the last. This is where things should be headed, and maybe should have been from the start. He gets that now. So many of the worries he had held onto are beginning to fade from his mind, bit by bit, and he’s going to make sure it all works out in the end because if there’s anything worth fighting for, it’s this. He’s certain about it.

He’s going to cling onto it with all he’s got. 

 

 

 

 

When the afternoon comes around, whenever Ilhoon gets to waking up again, he has a long, hard think while sitting on the edge of his bed. He hasn’t even fixed his hair yet – the thought doesn’t cross his mind, but he’s got a lot more important ones to consider.

A little later than this time next year, he’ll be graduating. As of right now, his grades are less than stellar than they were when he had started university, before he had so much of his energy and days given up for work. He was supposed to become somebody greater than this, he was always told, and now he’s only just hanging onto a decent enough average because money matters the most in the world and that’s where he’s allowed his priorities to lie.

But everything has to come to an end eventually, and he’s decided that it’ll be on his terms.

Ilhoon sits in the living room and waits until it’s almost three for Sungjae to get up. He flips through a magazine from months ago and the clock has been ticking for what feels like far longer than it actually has been.

When Sungjae finally shows his face, Ilhoon greets him with a curt, “Took your time.”

And Sungjae yawns while asking, “Have you been out today?”

“Nope.”

He heads for the kitchen and makes some tea for himself first. He spends a good couple of minutes adding milk and sugar and stirring it, the sound of the spoon scraping against the inside of the mug that Ilhoon can hear from the living area. Once he’s satisfied, he returns and takes a seat on the end of the couch.

“I’ve been thinking all afternoon,” Ilhoon says, turning to him.

Sungjae takes a sip before speaking, possibly burns his tongue a bit but replies anyway, “Go on.”

“Well, I’m going to do everything that I said I would last night, but there’s something else,” Ilhoon pauses to evaluate his decision again, just in case, but his mind doesn’t change. “Sungjae, I... I’m going to quit.”

“What—work?” his jaw hangs open for a second.

“Mm. I guess I’ve saved up enough. I can just—I don’t know, get some minimum wage job to get by now, build up the courage to see my mom again and give her what I’ve been meaning to,” Ilhoon replies and hearing himself say it, he’s more certain about leaving. It’s not as if he hasn’t lived like that before. It’ll be tough, but in a way this has been just as tough.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” he nods.

“Then I’ve got your back, hyung,” Sungjae grins so widely that he knows it’s true. “I’m happy for you.”

And there’s one weight lifted from Ilhoon’s shoulders, but it’s only the first. There’s still more to go and there’s a courage starting to burn inside of him now, assuring him that he can face them all like he had doubted for too long.

 

 

 

 

During the next few nights that Ilhoon works, Hyunsik doesn’t show up once. Sungjae doesn’t spot him either.

Under the sparkling lights, Ilhoon sips his juice with various customers, sometimes wine if they offer to pour him a glass or he’s got room in his limited tolerance to allow himself any. He pets their egos, some fragile and others far larger than they should be for the guys they belong to, and he still hates it all. Alcohol makes his head spin and buttering up total losers is a test to find out just how much patience he’s got, how great of a liar he really is.

If they were Hyunsik, he wouldn’t have to drink or shower them with insincere compliments, or have to force himself to look them in the face and want them to leave as soon as possible. They’re not him though. They never will be and he still hasn’t come back.

But this isn’t the end.

On a night that Ilhoon got to spend cramming at home and Sungjae worked, he did return, but he wasn’t sure about Ilhoon’s schedule for the week and picked the wrong day to visit. Of course.

“I told him to come on Saturday,” Sungjae says as he heads for his room and at least he’s here to save the day. “You’re still working then, right?”

“Yeah. Thank God you didn’t say Sunday.”

“Well, it’s not as if you don’t know where he lives,” he grins.

“That’s not my style, Sungjae,” Ilhoon rolls his eyes. “Me, turning up unannounced like that? I mean, if it was a last resort.”

“It almost was if not for me,” Sungjae reminds him, and he expects a response before he disappears off to bed, or for a shower first if he’s awake enough.

“I know,” Ilhoon laughs and he truly does recognise what he’s done for him. “Thank you, for everything.”

It seems that in an unfortunate world, Ilhoon has had a decent share of luck after all and he’s still grateful for each bit of it that he’s been given. As trying as life can be, he’s feeling better about it than he has in a while now. At long last.

 

 

 

 

Saturday arrives slower than it should. It’s been a lot of studying while awake during the day and pretending to be sweet after dark until it finally comes, and all of this waiting has been killing Ilhoon on the inside. The anticipation’s been building up so much that he could burst tonight.

There’s an old usual to tend to first – not _his_ usual, but a divorced father who he hasn’t seen in some time, although he claims he has been here quite consistently. Ilhoon hadn’t noticed. That’s how little he pays attention to the world surrounding him when he’s with Hyunsik, how he makes everything else seem like nothing without meaning to.

They clink their glasses together, Ilhoon flashes him a bright smile, and it’s not so bad for a final night considering some days he’s had in the past. Everything could be worse. Sure, humouring this guy is kind of difficult when he’s not paying attention to what he’s saying in the slightest, but this can always be fixed with an, “Is that so?” or a, “Really?” to at least seem a bit interested. It’s a trick he had picked up when he first started, and soon he’ll no longer need it (as often, anyway).

As pleasant as this is, it doesn’t quite match up to the feeling that hits Ilhoon the moment he allows his eyes to wander towards the main entrance and Hyunsik’s already being shown to a table. Not at all.

And Sungjae has his back like he said he would – he takes over for him so he can head on over there and sort this out at last.

“You didn’t ask for me tonight,” he says as he sits down with Hyunsik. “Or that other night, but I guess I should say thank you for that. For getting me, for giving me some kind of space but still being there.”

Somehow, Hyunsik always has understood, or at least accepted everything. Ilhoon still has no idea why or how, but he’s sure he’d be out of his mind to give him up.

“But I have to talk to you now,” he slowly nods, and he’s telling this to both Hyunsik and himself.

“Then, I’d like to know if you’ve been okay,” he replies and he doesn’t smile yet.

“I guess I have,” Ilhoon supposes. He’s nervous in the pit of his stomach, but the way he sees it, there’s no backing out now. Not anymore. “The thing is, I’ve been stuck in this kind of strange place for a long time. I don’t mean work, but in general. I never told you that, despite everything I had shared with you. I’m sorry for the way I’ve been going about this, but yeah, I’ve been feeling better lately.”

“I’m just glad to hear,” Hyunsik accepts his answer and he doesn’t stick his nose into where it might not belong. He simply waits until Ilhoon is prepared to continue on his own.

“I think that I’m finally moving on from that though,” he cracks a tiny smile as if to prove it. “I’ve been feeling a little different lately—no, I’ve been feeling different since you came along.”

Hyunsik’s eyes widen a bit, “Me?”

Ilhoon nods at him, and he suddenly remembers where they are.

“Do you still have some time?” he asks, because he figures that this place isn’t the most ideal for a discussion like this. “It’d probably be better to talk this through elsewhere. I can leave early tonight,” he adds, and he realises he hasn’t even told Hyunsik yet. “This is actually my last night here.”

“Oh—you quit?” his eyes open wider than before.

And Ilhoon nods, again, to confirm it. To make it seem even more real than it has so far.

He’s allowed to leave at twelve as an oddly kind parting gift. They pass the time together until then, just the two of them like they always would, with conversations about boring things that seem funny for no reason – none other than that almost anything can seem worth talking about when one person is this attuned to another. When they happen to fit together so naturally, somehow, it seems more like a fantasy than ruthless old reality.

But it’s not. None of this has ever been make-believe, just an illusion, and Ilhoon’s allowing himself to believe it all now. That this has been something all along.

They walk the way back to Hyunsik’s home – the one that Ilhoon knows too well for somebody who doesn’t have his number yet. Even now. He still blushes when their shoulders press into each other, when his hand lightly brushes against Hyunsik’s, as the thought of whether he should try holding it or not passes through his mind.

In the end, he doesn’t because they’ve arrived before he knows it. They’re already sitting there, in the living room, like he’d gotten used to and had admittedly started to miss. And to think that he’d almost let it go.

He takes a deep breath now, and he tells Hyunsik, “Ever since we met, it’s seemed like everything just comes back to you,” and he shakes his head to himself. “I don’t know why—I mean, I didn’t.”

He reaches for Hyunsik’s hand – it’s his turn this time. He holds it, and Hyunsik holds his back, lends Ilhoon some of his warmth and this doesn’t feel wrong. It gives him the strength he needs to gather up his courage and go on.

“I think I’m in love with you, you know,” he finally confesses. “Always kind of have been, as stupid as it sounds.”

“It doesn’t. Not at all,” Hyunsik assures him and it’s one thing Ilhoon’s been dying to hear. To be told that nothing’s been a mistake, that he hasn’t been a total fool in this.

He tightens his grip on Hyunsik’s hand, and he lets him know, “I’ve loved you for what feels like so long now, but I’d convinced myself that it was much more complicated than this. I tried to push you away because I... I believed that I wasn’t enough for you.”

“There’s no such thing as that, but listen, Ilhoon, you could never be it. I swear,” Hyunsik insists and as much as Ilhoon’s learned to be cynical in life, as unlike him as this is, he trusts him completely.

“To be honest, I had a lot of fears about you,” he admits, shy all of a sudden because he’s baring his entire heart now. “At first it was that you wouldn’t come back, but you did. Afterwards I was afraid that you wouldn’t like me like this, all plain and boring, but you did too. And I was scared that you’d eventually give up on me, but you haven’t yet.”

“I’m not going to, so please, don’t be afraid anymore,” Hyunsik replies and he gives Ilhoon a small smile, one that somehow shows him that he’s both sincere and serious about this. About _them_. Ilhoon can’t help but smile right back.

“That’s a big thing to promise somebody, yet I believe you and I don’t know why.”

This point that they’ve reached now, it’s what Ilhoon’s only been dreaming of since the night they met, but never did he imagine that it’d be a place that they’d ever arrive at. Never did he think that he’d have something this good of his own.

And this is happiness, possibly the purest form of it that he’s had the privilege of feeling for himself.

“You know, hyung,” Ilhoon lightly nudges Hyunsik once he remembers that he isn’t quite the only one with words that were left unspoken. “A little bird told me that you had something to say to me too.”

“Right—that’s right,” he laughs to himself like he had forgotten. “I thought that I was an idiot for this, but one night was enough for me to fall for you. I don’t know—I was just so excited to see you again, but I didn’t exactly think it was love at the time. Not until I kept coming back.”

“You’ve paid way too much these past months just to see me,” Ilhoon laughs harder.

“No way, it was all worth it,” Hyunsik says and he’s absolutely convinced. “What I’m trying to say though, is that it’s been you from the start. I’m in love with you, too.”

“At least one positive is that it’ll be free now,” Ilhoon supposes, then he jokes again. “Want me to pay you back?”

“With money? No. With something else? Maybe,” Hyunsik grins, and he opens his arms wide for him. “Come here.”

He holds Ilhoon close, and it’s better than when he last did by a million times. No tears, no pushing away – just a hug long enough to make it clear that they both feel the same way and the largest sense of relief Ilhoon’s ever felt in his life. That’s it.

“So, is there anything else left for us to confess?” Hyunsik asks afterwards.

Well, there is one thing.

“Mmm, this is a bit embarrassing so I don’t know if I should tell you—”

“You know that I want you to,” Hyunsik leans in nearer.

“How do you know me so well?” Ilhoon smirks at him because he’s caught him red-handed at his own game. “Okay. Not long after we had met, I was already having dreams about you. They were pretty standard, I guess, but one night I had this really—I mean—it wasn’t explicit, but it was definitely something—”

“A wet—”

_God._

He knows he’s blushing redder than a beetroot now, but deep down inside, he’s wanted to tell him for a while, whether or not he’s playing now, “Don’t say it.”

“Nothing to be ashamed of,” Hyunsik keeps on smiling like he always has done. “Not when I’m yours.”

Ilhoon simply bites down on his lip and rolls his eyes at that, but there couldn’t be much in the world that’s better than hearing it (in a place other than in a movie or a drama, of course).

“Did you enjoy it though? Hoonie?” Hyunsik asks and he snakes his arm around Ilhoon’s waist. This wasn’t part of the plan tonight, but sure, okay.

“Hmm?” Ilhoon dips his head just a little so that he can’t spot the look on his face. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

“You can tell me,” Hyunsik holds onto his side a bit firmer, and his voices goes low. “What if your dream became reality?”

“What if?” Ilhoon repeats and his own voice is starting to quiver with anticipation.

“Ilhoon, could I kiss you right now?”

And he nods with a shyness that he still hasn’t managed to get under control, but he tries his best to hide it, “But next time, don’t ask. I enjoy the surprise.”

Breathe and prepare, both mentally and physically. Hyunsik brings Ilhoon towards him so effortlessly, too naturally but it’s all real. And Ilhoon’s chest tightens up as his heart thumps against it hard, as his forehead becomes thinly lined with sweat and his mind fills up with a thousand thoughts and each and every one of them are about the person sitting there in front of him.

It’s all about the two of them now.

Hyunsik pushes his mouth against Ilhoon’s, slightly open this time, and it’s strange to remember that this is only the second kiss they’ve ever shared. (But if they’ll all be this good from this point onwards, there’s nothing to complain about.) His tongue lightly skims Ilhoon’s and his hands work in ways that no amount of imagination could have ever come close to. They’re heading to where they’ve never been before, around the back of Ilhoon’s thighs and they hoist him up higher and set him down again, slide him along Hyunsik’s lap, closer and closer. Hyunsik’s lifting him off of the couch and taking him away from the living room before he knows it, and where they’re going now – everything’s about to be perfect, even if just for a moment.

“You know, Ilhoon, I’ve seen you in my dreams too.”

 

 

 

 

(Ilhoon’s lips have never been quite this swollen before in his life. They’re all thick – thicker than usual – glossy and slick from sucking Hyunsik off, the kissing they did beforehand and the kissing they’re doing right now. (Well, it’s a bit of a change from using lip gloss.)

He fits rather nicely in Hyunsik’s lap, his own thighs contently settled at either side and a clear enough view of Hyunsik’s face in front of him despite the only light in here being from the bedside lamps. He pushes the hair from Hyunsik’s eyes with a kind of tenderness that he’s been saving just for him, maintains a mutual gaze for longer than a few seconds as he becomes mesmerised by the way Hyunsik stares back at him, the love in his eyes and how they somehow glimmer.

“Ilhoon, are you nervous?” he asks in a voice so gentle that it sends a shiver along Ilhoon’s spine. He isn’t exactly sure, but he shakes his head. “Okay. You can tell me if you change your mind though.”

Trying to fit Hyunsik’s dick inside of Ilhoon’s ass is a bit of a challenge when it’s probably larger than anything in there should be. (Especially when the last time Ilhoon had gotten any was, very unfortunately, never.) Dedicating so much time, effort and lube to it is worth it though – they’ll be rewarded in the end. (Hyunsik’s fingers aren’t too bad either, as a severe understatement.)

And, besides, Hyunsik’s shoulders make an excellent support for Ilhoon once they get to the part where he has to lower himself slowly, little by little, onto his dick and the girth of it is starting to spin his mind as he allows it to push further into him.

Ilhoon’s breath catches in the back of his throat with an audible gasp whenever he’s finally managed to take Hyunsik all the way in, and that’s a triumph in itself. He doesn’t let go of his shoulders when he begins to ride him with drawn-out rotations, ones that make him pant already and Hyunsik grab onto his thighs even harder, kiss him more forcefully with a burning passion that’s been waiting to show itself to him.

And Ilhoon loves it, every single bit of it. He loves when Hyunsik’s noticed he’s tired himself out and he takes over, has him lie against the pillow and does the work for the two of them. He’s got better stamina than Ilhoon, more strength and power to put to use and all of it is going straight into driving his hips into the back of Ilhoon’s, the sound of skin on skin echoing along with the headboard against the wall.

And he loves Hyunsik.

It’s hard to think straight when getting fucked, difficult to think at all when a dick is deep in his ass and the most he’s doing at the moment is whimpering like he can’t help it with every slight movement, whether it’s Hyunsik’s hand stroking the side of his face so adoringly or the other slipping its fingers between his. The only thing on his mind is literally _Hyunsik, Hyunsik, Hyunsik_ and that this is possibly the closest he’ll ever be to paradise.

And Hyunsik coming inside of him at last is better than any euphoria he’s ever had the pleasure of experiencing by miles.)

 

 

 

 

Morning comes and Ilhoon wakes up still in Hyunsik’s bed (so it really wasn’t a dream this time round, thankfully). There’s faint light passing through the curtains and Hyunsik’s yet to wake up, lying there so peacefully he looks almost unreal. Both of his arms were left draped around Ilhoon when they got to falling asleep, all warm and soft, and they haven’t moved one bit throughout the night.

This is how things should be.

There’s no rush today. Ilhoon does his best to stay put, to avoid shifting in the slightest in case he disturbs Hyunsik. It’d be cruel to after how hard he had worked last night. He can sleep until he’s ready, whether or not Ilhoon’s greedy to experience more with him, to find out what he’ll do once he wakes up and sees him there, recalls the evening that had led up to this.

It’s a Sunday after all and Ilhoon—

That’s right. He quit.

To pass the time, he has little else to do but stare at the patterns on the ceiling and imagine shapes and faces in them. That one looks like a tree and this one resembles a cat, and another like nothing in particular and all that Ilhoon can actually think about is what they did together – he and Hyunsik.

He remembers that instead.

It’s funny how things turn out. In a way, he’s seen more of Hyunsik in one night than he has in every one of these past months combined. He was out of this world though, even better than Ilhoon had ever estimated that he would be during his rather sad episodes of imagination while alone. And then he blushes hard to himself once the plea that could be heard in his voice returns to his head, as the jumbled yet desperate words he had said to Hyunsik slowly come back.

Oh God.

He’s so embarrassed that it doesn’t even register in his mind that Hyunsik’s woken up until at least a few seconds too late. (Until he’s pressing a good morning kiss to the top of his head, in fact.)

Still a bit sleepy, he smiles at Ilhoon, “You look pretty right now.”

And he’s caught way off-guard, “Me?”

“Yes, you.”

Sometimes it’s nice that certain things never seem to change.

It takes a while to actually get out of bed. Hyunsik heads to the kitchen once they have though, makes coffee for himself and tea for Ilhoon as he waits on the couch, a place that’s like a second home to him now. Hyunsik’s sure to ask for his sugar and milk preferences first, and he joins him in the living room afterwards.

It’s too hot for Ilhoon to even take a sip yet, he can’t get close without the steam getting into his eyes, but it’s somehow no problem for Hyunsik. He tips back his mug and swallows down some of his coffee, then he sets it on a coaster on the table and turns to Ilhoon. He smiles – of course – and he leans in, gives him a kiss that tastes nothing but bitter, yet all it feels to him is sweet.

Ilhoon wouldn’t mind this being every morning.

“What have you got planned today?” Hyunsik asks, hand over Ilhoon’s and everything about this seems right, right, right.

“Nothing much,” Ilhoon supposes, especially now that he’s out of work, but that brings something else to mind. “Actually, I want your advice, if that’s alright with you.”

Hyunsik nods in response, “Talk to me.”

“Well, let’s see. You know why I worked, don’t you?” Ilhoon folds his arms. “I just want to repay my mom, and yet I... I haven’t seen her in months,” he shakes his head to himself because he had never meant for this to happen. “To tell you the truth, I’ve been feeling too ashamed.”

Like it’s one of the things he’s best at, Hyunsik simply wraps an arm around his shoulder and listens carefully.

“I want to give her all of this money I’ve been saving, but it’s dirty, you know. I’ve just been holding onto it even though I know that she needs it,” Ilhoon frowns as he continues, as his heart fills up with guilt again. “I didn’t want to tell her what I’ve been doing to get it. I don’t know how any parent could be proud of that.”

Hyunsik takes a moment to think it through, doesn’t blurt out the first thing that comes to his mind, as if this holds as much importance to him as it does to Ilhoon. And even if it’s only down to Ilhoon’s imagination, he’s sure that there’s no one else he’d rather love.

“I think that she’d understand. Even if it takes some explaining, you did it for her, didn’t you?” Hyunsik offers him a reminder. “I know that I’m not her so we may not be on the same line of thought here, but the way I see it, your intentions mean the most and they were good. She may be a bit shocked, but even if she is, things will be okay. At least call her first. That’ll be a way to start.”

“Yeah,” he does agree, but he suddenly has more courage to go through with it now. It wasn’t quite the advice that he needed, but the encouragement and convincing that it’ll all be fine. “You’re right, hyung. I’ll do that. Thank you.”

And as much as he hates to leave this place so soon, he’s got this business to tend to back at home in order to clear his head even further.

Before he gets up off of the couch, he remembers, finally, “One more thing. Give me your number before I forget to ask.”

“It’d be my pleasure,” Hyunsik flashes him his perfect teeth in the biggest, brightest grin, and he reaches for his phone lying on the coffee table.

As they’re standing by the front door again, Ilhoon doesn’t seem to feel torn up anymore, downhearted and blue about saying goodbye like he used to. There’s his own voice in his head and it’s telling him not to worry now, that he and everything will be alright, when it would always be beating him down back then. And, somehow, he actually kind of believes it.

Ilhoon turns to Hyunsik as he’s halfway out of the apartment, and he’s curious, “Hey, hyung? Do you think that you’ll miss Ilsoon?”

“Hm? Why do you ask?” Hyunsik asks back.

“Just wondering if you’d like to see her again sometime,” Ilhoon smiles a bit with the corner of his mouth. There’s no reason to let her go just because he’s quit work. “I’m fond of her, you know, and she’s rather fond of you too.”

“Then I’d be happy to have her here when she feels like it.”

Somewhere in the back of Ilhoon’s mind, he has a feeling that it could be soon, and while her visits might not be frequent – he’s yet to decide – she’s never going to disappear. (Not when clothing that’s both figure-hugging and short look so good on him and all of the makeup he’s collected even better. It’d be a total waste.)

 

 

 

 

“I already know the answer, so I’m not going to ask where you were this time,” Sungjae starts the second Ilhoon walks through the door, before he even has the chance to figure out where he is. (It turns out that he’s lying stomach-down on the couch.) “But I do want to know what happened.”

And Ilhoon can’t contain the smile trying to appear on his face.

“Things worked out better than they should have for Jung Ilhoon’s life, and I spent the night,” he replies, slightly smug about it.

Sungjae sits up, and he raises both eyebrows as high as they can get, “ _Oh_ —did you two—”

“Mmhmm.”

“God, hyung. You certainly didn’t waste any time getting stuck in there,” he snorts.

“I’ve been sexually frustrated forever, Sungjae. That’s what happens,” Ilhoon rolls his eyes at him, and he leaves his shoes by the door. He takes a seat in the empty space near Sungjae, and he’d be lying if he claimed that he didn’t enjoy a bit of a humble brag every now and then.

“Details, please.”

“What— _no_ ,” he laughs. (A touch of modesty is key.) “What do you want to know anyway? The exact circumference of his dick?”

Sungjae shrugs, “If you know it and it’s impressive, why not.”

“Sorry, but I don’t, although it was— _well_ —I’m sure you can figure it out.”

“That’s boring,” Sungjae nudges Ilhoon in the arm, and he pesters him for more. “I always tell you everything.”

“Yeah, but I mean, you’ve actually met him so it’s weird,” Ilhoon grins as he stands up again. He looks towards the bathroom (it’s rare that he showers less than twice a day), then back at Sungjae. “Unlucky, huh?”

Ilhoon starts to head straight over there so he can finally wash himself clean. (He still smells like work and he isn’t even part of that place anymore. It’s time to say goodbye once and for all.) Before he closes the door, Sungjae calls out to him.

“Hey, hyung,” he smiles so widely as he rests his head sideways on the top of the couch. “I’m really happy for you, you know. I’m just so glad to see you like this again.”

 

 

 

 

Deep breaths are all that Ilhoon has to prepare himself for this now. He’s gone over what he’ll say over a hundred times now, heard the words Hyunsik had said to him repeatedly in his head, but all of this isn’t going to waste. It isn’t for nothing.

“Hi, Mom? It’s me, Ilhoon,” he says once the call has been picked up and his voice has a slight tremble to it. It stays there when she answers him. “Yeah, I’ve been fine. Listen, do you think we could meet up sometime this week? Whenever you’re free. Why all of the sudden? I’ve actually been working and I’ve saved up for us, and I have a lot to tell you too. What about? About everything, really. Yeah. I’m really sorry that it’s been so long.”

He hurriedly scribbles down the date and time she suggests. It’ll be at home – a simple meeting – but they could go some place else later if the idea comes up then.

“Um—Mom, I met somebody as well,” Ilhoon figures he should also let her know. It’s a part of his life now that’s too big, too important not to share beforehand. “No, not at uni. It’s a long story, I guess. Oh—you want to meet—it might be a bit early, don’t you think? Hmm, okay, well maybe in the future? I’ll have to ask. Yes, yes, I am in love— _Mom!_ I’m hanging up now, alright—yes, he’s absolutely wonderful, thank you for asking. Bye, I love you.”

 

 

 

 

Summer comes by far slower than it could have, but Ilhoon’s managed to pass almost every final with some luck, although he’s got a whole lot of work to do this upcoming year if he wants to be back up where he believes he should be again. (This is after a ridiculous amount of cramming that’s left him slightly burnt out too, but at least there’s this break in order to recover now. Well, after he retakes the one math exam he had failed. Not everything can be perfect.) And sure, it’ll be tough, but so have most things been in life and he’s still pushing forwards, as persistent as ever.

He’s got a job at the convenience store around the corner now and it’s not much more amazing than it was to work at the club, but it’s something to keep him going.

When it’s possible, Hyunsik will pull up outside and pick Ilhoon up, take him out or back to his place. (He’s had a car all this time, but he’s been smart enough not to drink and drive as well. He mostly uses it for work anyway – he actually enjoys walking around.) And dates are nice and all, but nothing quite beats having dinner at Hyunsik’s apartment, staying the night and waking up by his side once morning’s arrived. He still makes their tea and coffee, a little breakfast too, and Ilhoon’s even more reluctant to leave now than he was back then.

Because everything about it has got him thinking that life should be this way and none of it is wrong, not one bit, and he knows he isn’t mistaken.

“You look good in here,” Hyunsik says as he turns his head to look back at him, sitting on the kitchen counter while he stirs a pot of curry he’s tried his hardest to prepare. “This entire place, I mean. I like how you look here, the way you fit in.”

Ilhoon’s heels knock against the cupboard below him when he asks, “What do you mean?”

“Mmm,” Hyunsik slowly walks towards him, a spoon in his hand. “Have a taste of this first,” he says and he feeds him, waits a little for his reaction. Ilhoon gives him a nod and a smile, and he swallows it down. “I like having you here, exactly like this. With me.”

And Ilhoon’s heart still starts to flutter, even now.

“Maybe it’s too early for us, I don’t know, but one day, I—”

“I’d love to,” he blurts out, and as hot as he senses his face becoming, he doesn’t exactly regret it.

The thing is, honesty is the reason they’re even together at all right now, at this very moment. It’s been the key from the beginning – Ilhoon knows this – and as time has told, he also recognises that it’s always been better to be truthful with every feeling that he has, no holding back.

Hyunsik gives Ilhoon’s knee a light pat with his free hand, and he tells him, “Then let me know when you’re ready.”

 

 

 

 

It’s Monday evening. Hyunsik comes home from work, and Ilhoon tugs at the hem of the dress he’s chosen tonight when he gets up off of the couch and greets him with a lipstick-coated smirk – cherry red because he knows that he likes it on him a bit too much.

“Oppa, have you missed me?” he asks in the sweetest voice he can possibly put on.

By the door, he gives him a kiss that also leaves his lips slightly stained – a perfect sight. Hyunsik is his now, just as much as he’s Hyunsik’s as well. Then he takes his hand in his, leads him over to the living room and welcomes him properly with the best way that he knows: his usual, for no charge except a simple, “You’re the best, I love you,” and a smile that’s enough to light up the entirety of his life.


End file.
